Ennis's second visit to the Twist ranch
by Marcky
Summary: Jack's mother and Ennis talk about their loss. A tearjerker. All comments are welcome.


**Ennis's second visit to the Twist Ranch**

The phone rang six miles outside of Lightning Flat.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Mrs. Twist. This is Ennis Del Mar." Ennis was relieved that Jack's mother answered. If it had been his father, Ennis had planned on hanging up without saying anything.

"Why Ennis, what a nice surprise. Good to hear from you."

"It's good to talk to you, too, ma'am. I'd like to take ya up on your offer to come see ya folks again."

"Anytime, I hope you know that."

"Well, I'd like to come see ya this Saturday, if that's all right, and I got a favor to ask."

"Saturday's fine, though John's out of town on business for a few days. What can I do for you?"

Ennis paused. He hadn't figured out this part of the conversation. "I was hopin' you might have a picture o' Jack that I could have or … make a copy of … or somethin'."

Mrs. Twist smiled. "Why, Ennis, of course. I have an album full o' pictures and you're welcome to any of 'em. When can you be here?"

"About noon, I guess. That OK?"

"Yes, that's fine."

"Well, I'll see ya then. Bye, Mrs. Twist."

"Goodbye, Ennis."

On Saturday, Ennis left his trailer around 10 a.m. to begin the two-hour drive to Lightning Flat. As he drove, he thought about Alma Jr.'s wedding. It had been in June, and now it was August. It was when pictures were being taken of the wedding party – with Ennis borrowing one of his brother's suits – that Ennis realized he had no pictures of Jack. The empty feeling he got sometimes when he thought about Jack instantly felt deeper. It took him until August to get up his nerve to call Jack's mother. He was worried about what she would think.

Two miles from the ranch, Ennis left the main road to check out the Lightning Flat cemetery. He drove up to the fence, close enough so he could see Jack's headstone in the family plot. Ennis had been there a few times before, without stopping by the Twists'. The flowers he'd left two months earlier were gone. Perhaps someone had cleaned up the grave, or perhaps they'd blown away.

He left the cemetery and drove to the Twist ranch. It was as bleak and run-down as on his first visit. After parking the truck he walked toward the porch as Jack's mother opened the kitchen door and stepped out smiling. Ennis approached her awkwardly, not sure what to do. She made it easy by stepping forward and embracing him. Ennis hesitated slightly before embracing her.

"Ennis, I'm so glad to see you. Let's go inside."

"I'm ... I'm real happy to see you, too, Mrs. Twist."

The wind blew dust in after them before Jack's mother could close the door. She gestured to Ennis to sit at the table, went into the kitchen and brought back two cups of coffee. "I hope you'll have some of my cherry cake this time."

"I'm sure I can. This is ... well, it's a lot less, uh, tense I guess, than it was last time. I think I got my appetite back."

She went into the kitchen and brought back on a plate the piece of cake she'd already sliced. She placed it in front of Ennis as she put her hand on his shoulder. She sat down with her coffee opposite Ennis as he started on the cake.

"When you're done I'll bring out the picture album. But please tell me what you've been doing."

"Well, ma'am, the biggest thing was my daughter's weddin'. My oldest girl, Alma Jr., she got married this June."

"That's great news, but Ennis, please call me Elaine."

"I'd ... I'd like that. Thank you, Elaine. I think it was only the second or third weddin' I ever been to that I had to dress for. Anyways, it was real nice. Me and her mother get along pretty good, and I get along with her new husband, too. So it wasn't awkward or anything."

Jack's mother thought about Jack's wedding, which she and Jack's father hadn't attended. "So how did you feel giving away the bride?"

"Well, it made it pretty clear she was grown up. She ain't my little girl anymore, kinda belongs to somebody else now. But Kurt's a good kid. He's got a good job and he treats her right. Guess I'm lookin' forward to grandkids, even though the word don't seem like one I should be sayin' yet."

She thought about Bobby and smiled. "You'll love getting used to it, I promise. More cake?"

"No thanks. It's real good, but that's plenty for me."

Jack's mother took the plate into the kitchen and went upstairs, returning with an old photo album. Looking at it from the side, Ennis could see that only the first quarter of its pages held any pictures. The rest looked very thin edge-on.

She put the album in front of Ennis, moved her chair from the opposite side of the table to 90 degrees to Ennis's right, and sat down. She opened the album to the first page, showing pictures of Jack as an infant.

"I guess you probably don't want to have one of his baby pictures to remember him by, but I'd like to show him off. He was such a beautiful baby."

"Please do, Elaine. I really like baby pictures. Shoulda taken more of the girls than we did."

Jack's mother went through the pictures one by one, saying a little or a lot about each. Occasionally her voice would waver. "One thing I remember most from when he was a baby. I'd say to myself, 'If my faith ever weakens, all I have to do is look at my Jack, and I'll know he's a gift from God.' It felt like that a lot."

"Yep, babies'll do that to ya. They're a miracle. For me, it's the hands 'n' the fingers."

After a few more pages, the years had advanced to high school and there was a picture of Jack about age 16 on a swimming raft in a lake. He was wearing a small bathing suit, and was getting hair on his stomach.

Ennis exclaimed, "Jeez, he was built like a brick -- I mean, did he look good."

Jack's mother chuckled. "He was such a handsome teenager. The girls wouldn't leave him alone. He went out some, but he spent most of his time learning how to ride horses and the bulls."

Near the end, taking up the whole page was a picture of Jack being awarded his prize belt buckle for bull riding at the county fair in 1966. Jack's smile lit up the picture, which was an 8" x 10" taken by the event's photographer. "This is one of my favorites. It's the happiest picture of him there is. The day he won his big event and the day he met Lureen. It was a wonderful day. Wish I'd been there."

"I remember Jack loved to talk about his bull ridin'. I think that's the thing he liked best. But, it ain't really somethin' you can do for very long. He said he quit while he could still walk."

After a few more pages, the last picture was of Jack, Lureen and Bobby when Bobby was 8. At the bottom, in the white border, was written "Xmas, 1975."

"That's the last one. Weren't any more after that. Not sure why." Her voice caught. "Sometimes ... it feels like it's a 39-year-old man who died. But usually it's ... it's the baby I held in my arms," she started to cry, "or my little boy who cried when I dropped him off at his first day at school, or my angel who was asleep when I took a tooth from under his pillow and left him a dime." She put her face in her hands and cried.

Ennis moved his chair next to hers and put his arms around her. "Never thought about it like that. Guess I lost that skinny 19-year-old kid with crooked teeth, and the older guy with beautiful straight teeth and a moustache."

"Excuse me." Jack's mother got up, went into the kitchen and brought back a box of Kleenex, wiping her nose on the way back. "I didn't think it would be this bad today. I looked through these the day before yesterday for the first time since once right after the accident. It felt like I lost a couple dozen children, little boys, some teenagers, couple adults. Well, you've seen the pictures. Seems like I cried all afternoon. Thought I got it out of my system."

Ennis's eyes were watering. "It ain't fair." He could barely say it.

"No, no it isn't. Sometimes feels like I lost everything, everything I ever cared about."

"It's a little easier for me, I guess. I still got my girls. 'Cept for them, you're right, it feels like everything's gone ... Life's ... life's just so empty now." Ennis's voice started to break. After a few seconds, when he realized how much he'd said, he almost gasped. He felt dizzy.

Jack's mother dried her eyes. "Sometimes, when I get lonely, I go up to his room and talk to him. Tell him how my day's going, how much I miss him. How I'll see him soon."

Ennis sniffled and smiled, and debated what to say next. He realized he was with the only person that it was safe to talk to about Jack. "Yeah, I like to think Jack lives with me in the trailer. Say hello to him when I get home. In bed, I sleep on the right side. Left side's Jack's. Never use his pillow."

Jack's mother smiled. Squeezing his hand, she said, "That's a nice thought."

They didn't say anything for a while. Ennis looked out the window, where the hazy sunlight softened the landscape, in contrast to the harsh whitewash of the room's walls. He liked to think Jack was outside somewhere, maybe up on Brokeback, not here, and not in the graveyard.

Jack's mother said, "Well, let's try to find something happier to talk about. Please tell me what the story was with those shirts. I noticed 'em a few months after Jack's second summer on Brokeback Mountain. He was on the rodeo circuit, and I went into his room to put the final load of clean laundry away. I was hanging his jeans up in the closet and here are these shirts, both with blood on 'em, one Jack's and wrapped around one I never saw before. And it wasn't a girl's shirt."

Ennis smiled. "Well, ya got me. Our last day up there, we was wrestlin' and Jack gave me a bloody nose. I wiped my nose on my shirtsleeve and on Jack's. It was nothin', but I got riled over it and some other stuff and slugged Jack. So we wasn't real friendly when we said goodbye that afternoon. And I thought I left my shirt up on Brokeback. Had no idea Jack swiped it." Ennis laughed a little bit.

"Well, he never said anything about the shirts, so I didn't ask. Then in summer of '67, the year after he got married, he says he caught up with an old friend named Ennis, that he'd worked with on Brokeback in '63. So I thought it must be your shirt."

"Yep. I was real lucky. Jack looked me up and dropped by when he came through Riverton. Didn't know where he mighta been. We went to the mountains for a couple days. It was almost like bein' back on Brokeback, 'cept by then we was both married with kids. So, best we could do was see each other a few times a year. Go off campin' and fishin'."

"It's funny. Jack wouldn't say much about those trips, but from what he did say I could tell how happy he was when he was on them. I always wanted to hear more about them and more about you, but that never happened, except for his plans for the two of you to move up here someday and help out. I was looking forward to it ... and he sure was. Except for Lureen and Bobby, you were practically the only person he ever talked about." Ennis smiled wistfully.

She didn't say anything for a minute, then she took Ennis's hand and looked into his eyes. "Tell me, Ennis ... You loved my boy, didn't you?" Her voice broke and her eyes were wet.

Ennis looked away. "Oh yeah, sure did. Took me too long to figure it out, and figure out how much, but yeah."

"I know he was in love, too. Did he ever tell you?"

Ennis turned to look at her. "No, but he came real close once, our last trip together. If only I was payin' attention. What a dumbass. You know, in a way, maybe he told me back in '67, when he talked about us gettin' a ranch together ... And I didn't tell him, neither. No, I just ... it ... no, I didn't ... God, how many hints did I miss? ... It ain't easy talkin' about it." He turned away again.

"Yes, I know." She squeezed his hand.

"I was so stupid, so Goddamned stupid. And I kick myself almost ever'day for not tellin' 'im. But I know he's lookin' down on me -- maybe from up on Brokeback -- and he knows how I felt ... 'n' how I feel. Thinkin' about that makes me feel better. Like I only made that mistake for 20 years, and now it's fixed, I guess ... no thanks to me. And you know, sometimes, I dream about him a lot, like, every night for a week. And I remember one time when he said he loved me, and I just hugged him real tight 'cause I loved him, too, and I wanted him so much and ... and ... oh, God damn it."

Ennis was sobbing and had to stop. After a few seconds he wiped his nose with a Kleenex and continued, "Didn't want to let him go, not ever." He remembered that Jack smelled like sage and the mountains and like Jack. He couldn't remember any smells from any other dream. "It was so real. Was cryin' when I woke up because I was huggin' him too hard and he ... he started to disappear. And then ... and then he was gone and I woke up."

`"Oh, Ennis." Jack's mother squeezed his arm.

"Tried goin' back to sleep to get him back and the dream back, but that didn't work. It's strange. When I dream about 'im, I usually start out real happy 'cause he was gone and now he's back, but sometimes I get the feelin' that somethin's wrong and he shouldn't be here really and I shouldn't think about it too much or else I'll figure out what's wrong and ... and he'll go away again. But mostly I get lucky and he sticks around." Ennis smiled. "I remember tellin' 'im once that I missed 'im real bad and I was so glad to see 'im and this time we'd get it right. And for some reason our trip was gonna last six months. I was so happy and he was, too. Jesus, what a smile he had ..."

Ennis paused and wiped his eyes with his shirtsleeve. "Course, I knew we didn't have enough food for six months, let alone enough liquor. Not sure what we were gonna do about that." He coughed. "It's somethin' I look forward to every night when I go to bed ... You know, whenever he's there we're up on Brokeback, never anyplace else ... Sometimes, when I'm real lonely, I sorta think it'd be better if I spent the rest of my life asleep."

Jack's mother looked at him. "It's not as bad you think. Remember your girls and your grandkids. Let me tell you something. About 20 years ago, I was visiting one of my oldest friends, named Elizabeth, one of finest people who ever lived. It was January and we were talking about the new year, and I said it wasn't going to be a good one because my father died the year before and my mother was real sick and wasn't going to last long, so I said I wasn't looking forward to 1965. And Elizabeth took my hand and said something I never forgot. She said, 'Good things will happen, too.' And you know, if she hadn't said that, I don't know when I would have realized it myself. Days later, maybe."

"I'll try to remember that."

"But Ennis ... I ... I have another favor to ask you."

Ennis looked at her. "Sure, anything."

"At first I thought I wanted to you call me Elaine, but now ... I ... it's ... it's different. Could you ... could you please call me 'Mama'?" Ennis was startled. She looked down and closed her eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks. She looked up. "I ... I don't have anybody to call me that anymore. Haven't heard the word for two years. It's ... it's one of the things I miss most about Jack." She covered her face with her hands. "I miss him so much. Oh, why is he dead and I'm still alive?"

Ennis put his arms around her again. "Wish there was somethin' I could say. Parents ain't supposed to bury their children." Neither said anything for the next 30 seconds or so as Jack's mother cried. Ennis squeezed her and said quietly, "You got me now."

"Oh, Ennis." Jack's mother took Ennis's hand and put it to her cheek, which was wet. After another 30 seconds she asked, "Do you ... do you ever get a chance to visit his grave?"

"I done it a few times. Last time was in June. Put some flowers on it. There was some left over from the weddin'. I know I shoulda come by and seen ya, but ... I wish I had a good excuse but I don't ... I ..." Ennis sighed. "I just didn't want to talk to anybody."

"I understand. I went there last month just to visit. I didn't bring any flowers, but I cleared away some. I thought they were from you."

They were quiet for a while, looking mostly at Jack's rodeo picture. Ennis said, "Well, seein' all these pictures, I'd like to borrow this one," he kept his finger on that page and flipped back to the page with Jack in his bathing suit, "and this one."

"They're wonderful, aren't they? My mother used to say Jack had a love affair with the camera. Please help yourself, and make copies for me whenever you get around to it."

Ennis took the pictures and put them in a big envelope he'd brought.

"Guess I should get goin'. Try to get some work done at the ranch 'fore it gets dark. I want to thank you for everything." They stood up and walked to the door and out onto the porch. Ennis turned and they hugged each other.

For the first time in two years, Jack's mother said, "Goodbye, sweetheart."

And for the first time in 28 years, Ennis said, "Goodbye, Mama."

They kissed each other on the cheek and Ennis got into his truck and drove away.

He drove back to the cemetery, got out of the truck and walked through the cemetery gate to the Twist family plot. Jack's headstone was new, near those of his father's parents. It was engraved:

John C. "Jack" Twist, Jr.

July 5, 1943 Laramie, Wyoming

October 1, 1982 Childress, Texas

Ennis sat on the headstone and looked off into the distance, thinking mostly about his visit with Jack's mother. He took the pictures out of the envelope, taking one in each hand, looked at them and smiled. He looked at the mountains, toward where Brokeback was and maybe where Jack was, waiting for him. He put the pictures back in the envelope, got down on his knees, kissed the name on the headstone and said, "Love ya, Jack."

9


End file.
